When it was done, the Wilsons’ Great Room looked like it had been trampled by a herd of blind elephants. Granny had lost her left arm in the shit show but Zeernebooch lost both legs, making Granny the winner on a technicality.

The Demon could have cared less—in fact, he was downright ecstatic. He’d copped at least ten feels of Granny’s perfect little butt during the melee. And if I wasn’t mistaken, he’d also latched on to her knockers a few times. Pretty sure it was the last time he went for her ass that he lost his second leg.

All in all, it was a semi-pornographic smackdown of epic proportions.

The formerly pink and blue themed baby shower decor now looked like a bloody crime scene covered in black Demon glitter. However, from the laughing and conversation of the guests, you’d never freakin’ know it.

“Amazing,” Dima said, watching Granny’s arm grow back. “Much faster than a Dragon. Werewolves are incredible.”

“Werewolf Vampyre,” I reminded her with a grin. It really was incredible.

“I gotta say, it kinda tickles when you grow another arm,” Granny observed as her arm continued to regenerate right before our eyes.

Zeernebooch’s legs had reformed just as rapidly.

“As long as there’s no major organ involved, it’s not bad at all,” Dwayne explained, patting Granny lovingly on the head. “Fifty years ago in Pamplona, Spain when I was doing the naked run with the bulls, I lost the entire left side of my body. It was a mess. It all would have been fine if I hadn’t paused to admire a fabu sequined mini-skirt in an adorable shop window. Normally, I’m far faster than a pissed off bull, but I just love sparkly things.” Dwayne shook his bald head fondly at the memory. “The son of a bitch naked gnomes I was running with were so drunk they were positively useless. Word to the wise… never do anything even semi-risky with gnomes. The tiny bastards suck in an emergency. So anyhoo… I had to regenerate in front of hundreds of human spectators—vomit and screaming everywhere. Hurt like a motherfucker. I had to sell my castle in England to buy off enough Vampyres to mind-wipe the masses. However, I did go back and buy the mini-skirt. I look completely fetching in it. As a matter of fact, I still have it.”

The conversation hit a momentary lull after that doozy.

“This is your choice of a life partner?” Zeernebooch inquired of Belphegor with a flabbergasted expression on his face.

Zeernebooch had just been Dwayned.

“It is,” Belphegor said proudly. “He’s wonderful.”

“Right back at you, snookie pants,” Dwayne said, taking Belphegor’s hand in his and squeezing it.

“The pizza will be here any moment,” Sadie announced as she reentered the room with Hank and Junior’s dad—who hadn’t uttered a word the entire evening and didn’t seem like he was going to talk any time soon.

“Even though the party was ruined…” Sadie eyed Granny and Zeernebooch accusingly. “I still have to feed you heathens. I will not lose my reputation as the Hostess with the Most-est.”

“Juju’s pizza?” Hank asked with a grin.

“Is there any other kind?” his mother inquired as she attempted to straighten the room and then gave up.

“What’s a Juju’s pizza?” Belphegor asked.

“Only the best pizza known to man or Shifter,” Dima chimed in. “Juju is a Rabbit Shifter. Every single Were in the tri-state area has voluntarily given up eating rabbit in their animal form so no one mistakenly eats Juju.”

“It’s that good?” Belphegor asked.

“It’s that good,” Junior promised as he gently cleaned the chocolate poo off of Sandy.

Zeernebooch cleared his throat and tried out his brand new appendages. “So, to clear the air—and because I’d like to keep these legs for a few centuries—I am going on record that I’m not homophobic. There was no need to present me with a false girlfriend. I’ve known you were gay since high school, Belphegor.”

“How?” Belphegor asked, surprised.

“I read your diary.”

“Well, that’s evil,” Granny accused the Demon, while studiously avoiding eye contact with anyone… especially me.

“I’m a Demon,” Zeernebooch replied with a shrug. “What do you expect?”

“Have you ever read anyone’s diary, old woman?” I asked, narrowing my gaze at Granny.

“Don’t believe we’re talking about me,” she replied vaguely.

“Oh my God,” I shouted. “You totally read my diary.”

“It’s okay, baby,” my mom said with a laugh. “She read mine too. I caught her red-handed.”

“Hmmm,” Zeernebooch said with an evil little smirk aimed right at Granny’s face… or maybe her boobs. “Seems like we might have a bit in common, Bobbie Sue.”

“Bite me,” Granny snapped.

“I’d be delighted to,” he replied. “And since I’m on a roll here. I would like the permission of the Demon Hunters to court the foul-mouthed, she-devil hellion.”

“I don’t care what the Demon Hunters have to say,” Granny shouted. “No married bottom dweller will court me unless he wants to lose his tiny pecker.”

“My pecker is not tiny,” Zeernebooch roared. “And I am NOT married.”

“You’re not?” Granny asked, eyeing the Demon warily.

“I might be evil, but I’m monogamous, you disgustingly gorgeous specimen of womanhood.”

“Well, then the Demon Hunters will be fine with it,” Granny shot back, flipping him off. “Me? I’m not so sure. You’re gonna have to work for some of this.”

Wait. A. Minute. There were freakin’ Demon Hunters here? WTF?

Without a second thought, I threw myself at Belphegor. We hit the floor with a loud thud. I quickly covered his body with mine. Who in the hell had invited Demon Hunters? Zeernebooch could more than likely take care of himself. However, Belphegor seemed like he could get his ass handed to him. That wasn’t going to happen on my clock.

“Help me protect Belphegor,” I hissed at everyone as I pulled a dagger from my boot. “He’s kind of a weenie.”

“I am?” came the muffled voice of Belphegor from beneath me.

“You are,” I confirmed. “While I’m all for self-expression, I have to agree with your pappy on the pink thing.”

“Pink makes me look like a weenie?” he asked.

“Well… umm… yes. But your boots rock. What size are you?”

“Ten,” he told me.

“Shit. I’m a seven.”

“What are you doing, Doll?” Dwayne asked, calmly.

“There are Demon Hunters here,” I growled while wondering why in the heck everyone wasn’t freaking out. “I’m protecting the love of your undead life, dumbass.”

“Sweetie, that’s not necessary,” my mom said, squatting down beside me and removing the dagger from my hand. “He’s talking about your father and me.”

That took me a minute to absorb. My parents were Demon Hunters? Why was I the only one surprised here? “So you’re not going to harm the weenie… I mean, Belphegor?” I asked, slowly easing off the Demon.

“No, dear. Your dad and I don’t hunt Demons anymore. And even if we did, we wouldn’t hunt Belphegor. He’s quite sweet.”

“I’m not a weenie,” Belphegor insisted, looking crestfallen.

He seemed very sensitive for a Demon. “Sorry. My bad,” I told him, giving him a quick hug because I wanted to make him feel better. “I hear your skills as a Necrophiliac are unrivaled.”

The silence was deafening. However, I was sure I heard Hank chuckle.

“For the love of everything diabolical and illegal. I am not homophobic, but even I draw the line at that,” Zeernebooch grunted, looking ill.

“Doll, it’s Necromancer. Not Necrophiliac,” Dwayne said with a wince. “But nice try.”

Holy shit,” I groaned. “I am sooooo sorry.”

“So you don’t…umm…” Zeernebooch questioned his son.

“No. No pappy, I don’t,” he replied with a shudder.

“Thank Hell for small favors,” Zeernebooch muttered, wildly relieved. “And while we’re on the subject, why are you going to raise the dead?”

“Dwayne asked me to,” Belphegor replied.

“And if Dwayne asked you to jump off a bridge would you do that too?” he demanded with an eye roll that could have earned him an Oscar.

Belphegor looked stymied for a second. “Yes. Yes, I would. I love him.”

Zeernebooch’s head dropped back and he sighed dramatically. “It’s a damned good thing I’m here,” he muttered. “Who do you want my boy to raise?”

“Weres,” I replied in an official tone, trying to redeem myself from suggesting that his son did dead people. Though technically, Dwayne was in that category, but this wasn’t the time for arguing semantics. I cleared my throat and got down to business. “Weres have summoned a Demon and overdosed on Jazz Cabbage. We need to figure out who’s responsible and stop them.”

“Are you insane?” Zeernebooch demanded.

“Occasionally,” I shot back, still mortified that I’d implied his son popped corpses. “But not right now.”

“Do you have any idea what will happen if you raise people who were completely out of control and violently inclined at the time of their deaths?”

“Umm… no,” I told him truthfully, not liking the direction of the conversation.

The older Demon groaned and sat down on a broken chair. “You will cause a Zombie apocalypse—an unstoppable one. You have to convince the raised to die again. There is no convincing entities hopped up on the Devil’s Lettuce of anything.”

“That would certainly suck all kinds of ass,” I replied, sitting down on the broken chair next to him.

“Huge ass,” he said. “How many times has this happened?”

“Six,” Hank answered. “About fifty dead. It’s bad enough that it’s happening, but the threat of exposure to the human world is what could end us.”

“Can the families of the missing Weres be trusted to keep quiet?” Belphegor asked, joining the conversation.

“Well now, that’s the farked up part. None of the dead have been reported as missing,” Junior explained. “Sandy and I have hacked into every single pack site in the United States. Nothing.”

“That’s odd,” Zeernebooch said.

“You got that right.” Junior shook his head and sighed.

“What about the WTF site?” my father asked.

“Nada there as well,” Junior said, frustrated over it.

“We need to see the crime scene,” Zeernebooch said flatly.

“I have pictures,” Hank replied.

“No.” Belphegor glanced over at his father with concern. “We need to go to the site.”

“Can I ask why?” I questioned, feeling ill at ease.

Neither Demon spoke. They avoided my gaze and looked off in different directions.

“Because if there is a trace of Demon left, Zeernebooch and Belphegor will know the Demon who cast the spell to create the Devil’s Lettuce,” my father said quietly.

Well, that was certainly news. I wasn’t sure what kind of news… but it was news.

“You guys ever gonna share the story as to why you know all of this?” I asked my mysterious parents.

“Only if the need arises,” my mother said. “It’s best that way.”

“So you really have met Zeernebooch?” I asked.

My mom sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and nodded. “Let’s just say I might have spared his life.”

I was unsure if she was trying not to smile or regretted sparing the Demon.

“Why?” Zeernebooch inquired. “I’ve always wondered why?”

“Because you remind me of someone,” my mother replied cryptically. “And this part of our conversation is over.”

“However,” my dad chimed in. “If you can find the Demon responsible, you can solve the crime and get your answers without raising the dead.”

“Maybe,” Zeernebooch said under his breath.

We mulled the turn of events silently. The original plan was a terrible one. We needed a Plan B and, thanks to my parents, we just might have it now. It sucked almost as badly as Plan A, but a half-assed Plan B but better than no plan at all.

“I just wish we knew who the damned dead were,” I said.

“We’ll stay on it,” Junior promised as Sandy nodded. “If it can be found, we’ll dig it up.”

“Nicolai and I are going to take a little trip up the East Coast and question some Dragons,” Dima said.

“You think Dragons are involved?” Hank asked.

Dima shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t. Most are simply trying to acclimate to a world where my father isn’t terrorizing them.”

“There are a few who enjoy gathering questionable knowledge and gossip,” Nicolai added. “I believe my mate’s plan has merit unless we’re needed in Chicago.”

“No,” I told him. “It will just be Hank, Belphegor, Zeernebooch and me in Chicago.”

“And Dwayne,” Belphegor said.

“And Bobbie Sue,” Zeernebooch insisted. “I can’t be expected to woo the evil wench if she’s left home alone.”

“Won’t be alone,” Granny crowed. “I pole dance and strip three nights a week.”

“For the love of everything erection building,” Zeernebooch bellowed. “No man shall see your rack except me. Those perky knockers are mine. AM I CLEAR, WOMAN?”

“Umm… Pappy?” Belphegor cut in with a grin.

“Yesssssss? What is it?”

“That’s not the way to woo a woman.”

“It’s not?” he asked, truly surprised. “What do you know about wooing a woman? You told me you like dick.”

“He likes Dwayne,” Junior reminded Zeernebooch, and then whacked himself in the head for being slow on the uptake… again.

“I don’t think yelling about her mammaries is the best plan,” Belphegor gently told his dad. “Maybe try being nice.”

“Nice?” Zeernebooch choked out, appalled. “I’m not nice. I’m a Demon. I say we let Bobbie Sue be the judge of my wooing skills.”

“You suck,” she replied with a laugh as she pulled out her phone and began to play Scrabble. “However, my knockers are fabulous even though the left one is slightly bigger than the right.”

“Actually,” Zeernebooch announced with a huge grin and great pride to the increasingly uncomfortable crowd. “The right is slightly bigger if memory serves… and it does.”

Granny quickly felt herself up and then cackled with delight as everyone closed their eyes in horror. “Well, I’ll be goddanged if the jackhole isn’t correct. Point to Weiner Hooch!”

“See? I’m doing fine with the wooing,” he whispered to his son. “I earned a point.”

“Whatever,” I huffed out, with an eye roll that rivaled Zeernebooch’s earlier masterpiece. “We are not going to Chicago for wooing. We’re going for a reason. A reason that could keep all of Were society safe from extinction. You feel me?”

“Yes,” came a chorus of guilty yesses from the Demons and the Vamps.

“I don’t want to hear about knockers, erections, gnomes—drunk or sober, and I really do not want to catch any of you in any kind of state of undress. I will open an enormous can of whoop ass and you won’t sit for a year when I’m done. Am I clear?” I snapped.

“She’s a little harsh,” Zeernebooch muttered.

“She’s my granddaughter,” Granny whispered back.

“That certainly explains it,” he said.

“We leave in an hour,” I instructed our crew as Hank nodded and winked at me.

“Do you need us to fly you up?” Dima inquired with a grin, knowing how much I’d enjoyed the recent flight aboard the Dragons.

“Unnecessary,” Belphegor said. “As Demons, we can transport the team in a matter of seconds.”

“That sounds horrifying,” I said, turning a little green at the thought.

“Oh pish,” Zeernebooch replied with a smirk that didn’t assuage my fear or roiling stomach. “It will be fun.”

“Define fun,” I snapped.

“Get cleaned up and I’ll show you,” he promised with a laugh.

I needed to have my head examined for not insisting we drive. But when in a hurry, bad decisions were the best way to go.